


exes asked each other incredibly honest questions and things got too real

by arexnna



Series: lost stars [23]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arexnna/pseuds/arexnna





	exes asked each other incredibly honest questions and things got too real

_based on[this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CfdlIMlPmuA), title from the buzzfeed [article](http://www.buzzfeed.com/candacelowry/exes-got-to-ask-each-other-a-series-of-intense-questions-and#.uoNJ29ky3) of mentioned video_

-/-

It’s when Ms. Mills says _‘start’_ that she begins to see how big of a mistake this is.

They’ve been debriefed – first separately, then together – informed of what’s expected from them, how they should act and what they should do. It seemed easy enough: pick up a card; ask the prepared question they’ve come up with based on what they told they writers about their relationship; answer with nothing but honesty; repeat until all cards are finished; get the paycheck and never look back.

Easy.

There isn’t any other reason she’d have done this – exploiting her failed relationship in front a bunch of strangers for them to upload to the whole of the internet isn’t quite part of her daily routine, _just to let you know._ It’s easy money, _she tells herself;_ Killian’s already on board, _Ruby convinces her_ ; it won’t be painful, _she blatantly lies to herself._

And it’s true. If it weren’t for the money, or the fact that she owes Ruby a big one after that little stint last summer, she wouldn’t be here. Telling the world how much she screwed up with Killian wasn’t quite on the top of her to-do list.

But he smiles at her, the one he used to give her when she needed that extra push, then she takes a deep breath and she’s okay.

He nods once, lips curling into a soft smile as he moves forward to reach for the card.

“Jumping straight into it, then,” he mumbles under a laugh.

-/-

_“Why were you always so scared?”_

The question hangs between them, and she can’t help the upturn of her lips into some sort of self-deprecating smile as a long breath falls from her mouth.

She could lie – tell him it’s unexplainable, that she couldn’t help what she felt, that it was the universe that cursed the insecurities into her and that with every step she ran away from him, it was nature that was taking it’s place, balancing the world into the way it should be.

Except, she promised – _honesty._

She owes him that much.

(She owes him so much more, really – this, _the truth_ , it’s the least she could give him.)

“I guess,” Emma begins, and her voice is strong, _starting off on a good note_ , “When you feel for someone as much as I,” here, her voice shakes, and _oops, road’s getting bumpy_ , “felt for you, I guess, saying those words, it just gave you all the power, and _God_ , was I terrified you’d hold my feelings for you over my head and run—”

“But you _knew_ I loved you just as much, maybe even more,” he presses, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he bores his stare into her eyes. “You know how frustrating it was?” he says with a lack of heat, a reminiscent grin on his face when he pushes himself back to his seat. “ _Two years_ and you still refused to tell me how you felt.”

She’s quiet for a while, and here’s where she knows the crash is coming, but still, she murmurs, “The words made it real.”

“But we _were_ real,” he says as quietly as she did.

-/-

She anticipates the tears that wells up in her eyes, blinking it away quickly enough for it to look casual enough to a third person. But he’s either not quick enough, or he doesn’t quite care, (she guesses it’s the latter – that man has always worn his heart on his sleeve, never once ashamed of any feelings he harbored for anything) and a droplet falls from his lashes, onto his cheek, and only as it reaches close to the corner of his lips, he wipes it away.

-/-

The next question comes and goes without a tear shed, and she takes that as a victory.

_“When you think about the first time we met, what do you remember?”_

It’s a lighter question, because _of course_ he gets the easier question.

He grins widely, chuckles quietly as he bows his head down. “It wasn’t the first time we met – _God, no_ – you _hated_ me when we first met-”

“I did not!”

“You _did_.”

“I did,” she admits. “You were far too cocky for my taste,” Emma smiles.

And he nods cheekily, never bothering to defend himself, “I was. But the first time we _talked_ , like _really_ talked, I swore I fell in love a little bit.”

She tries not to freak out at that, and it seems silly that even after everything they’ve been through, those words have always and will always frighten her. It’s worse now that those words are muttered in the past tense, and she pretends it doesn’t hurt. And so she does the famous Emma Swan move and avoids, directing the conversation elsewhere with her head jerking back and a, “You’re _lying_ ,” she façades. “It was at Ruby’s _Oscars_ Party and—”

“We were arguing on who really should’ve won Best Picture and I said—”

“That _Black Swan_ should’ve won, but I argued that _Inception_ deserved it,” she finishes for him, and a wide grin grows on her face that he can’t fight to mirror.

He folds his arms and chuckles lowly, “It was a bloody brilliant movie.”

“About ballerinas.”

“You miss the point of the film!”

“Right, right – _crazy_ ballerinas.”

-/-

Her next question passes quickly and swiftly with no tears on either end, and while there were some aching feelings ( _on her end, at least_ ), she counts this as a win – easily telling him about how it’s their little moments sitting quietly by the docks, staring ( _cliché-ly_ ) out into the horizon and just being together that she cherishes most.

(She doesn’t tell him how it’s that exact thought that keeps her warm at night, that when waves of how much she misses him washes over her, it’s those moments that she thinks of, desperately missing the quiet and the serenity those times had to offer. _No_ , she makes sure not to tell him that. She’d be digging her own grave if she did.)

-/-

_“What’s your fondest memory of our time together?”_

She smiles when she reads the words out.

There’s a moment that comes to her mind, the one where he’s been away ( _again_ ) for two weeks, edging onto three when they fight. She barely recalls what they were fighting about, something to do with the distance and the difference in timing and mostly about her wanting to end _this_.

But she remembers him saying, _‘wait for me – just wait for me’_ in broken pleas and how can she deny him anything?

He’s only to be back a week later and as much as she itches to run, make a clean break for it while he’s away so she doesn’t have to face him, she promised and she likes to keep to her word.

“But I came back early,” he continues, his voice breaks her out of her thoughts, “And it was in the middle of the night – some 2am or something – and when I couldn’t find you at home, I started freaking out, but I went to the docks, and _you were there_ ,” he says, a soft twinkle in his eyes when he looks at her.

It’s the same memory, she thinks, letting out a breath she didn’t quite realize she was holding.

“And then I said that I take it back – that I was being stupid, that I want to work on us, that I still need you.” Her voice is soft and slow, and the only thing she thinks of is how he came back for her.

 “And _God,_ I remember holding you for hours, and we just sat there, on the edge of the docks for so long that you have no idea how cramped my arse was,” he mentions and she can’t help the laugh that escapes her. “But I didn’t want to move – and I remember thinking: _‘I could get married to her. I could quit my job, and we could get out of here – run away, elope, start a life together in some isolated cottage and it’d just be the two of us.’”_

_Well,_ the no-crying streak has ended, she thinks as she shakes her head, tears rolling down her cheeks that she doesn’t even bother wiping away immediately.

He’s tearing too, she manages to catch that behind watery eyes, and _at least_ she’s not alone in that.

“Running away doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, after all,” Emma smiles as she wipes the moisture off her face, and he lets out a chuckle at that.

“ _Yeah_ , we should’ve ran away when we could.”

-/-

_“What would you warn my next boyfriend about me?”_ she asks a question later.

He laughs – the one laugh that makes his shoulders and chest rumble, the one where he bites ever so slightly on his bottom lip.

“Well, I’d tell him that he’s got to be patient with you, because _God_ , you can be stubborn,” he grins, and it seems like he’s enjoying this. “Not even for the big things like the relationship, but things like how you’d fall asleep on the couch and when I tell you to go to bed, you’d say you were still watching the telly, and I’d have to carry you to bed and get you into your pajamas, and I’d have to force you to brush your teeth before having to tuck you in bed.”

“That never happened!” Emma protests, but his grin only grows.

“Or how when you’re on your period, you can get _really, really_ mean, or how depressed you get when your favourite characters get killed off, and you know, stupid things like that,” he says, and with a voice so soft, he adds, “Never anything bad though.”

-/-

There’s no question on this card. Instead, it tells her to ask any question she wants and her heart lurches in her chest.

There are a million and one things she’d ask him – questions that’d include, _‘How did you love me for so long and so strongly?’_ and _‘What did I do to deserve you?’_ but instead she keeps it simple.

_“Why haven’t you been in a relationship since we broke up?”_

His lip twitches upwards and he shakes his head to himself. “You know why.”

She doesn’t know if she does. But if it isn’t what she hopes it is, she’d rather not know.

-/-

He laughs at his card and she knows he’d gotten the same privilege as she did with a blank card.

_“Do you ever regret… us?”_ he asks, and her heart falls in her chest.

She hates the vulnerability in his voice, hates that she knows this question is straight from him and she hates that he could even question that.

“ _God_ no, not once,” she speaks quickly, the need to make sure he knows rises high and fast in her. And he lets out a breath at that, but his relief only causes her to hate herself more. For him to feel worried about something like that… it says something about how she was as a person. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me,” she feels the need to confess.

Killian smiles softly at that, nodding his head as his eyes relight – vulnerability gone and a small rush of something that looks a lot like a mixture of relief and confidence replacing it.

“That’s good to hear.”

There’s a pause, she hesitates, then she asks,

“Do _you_?”

He waits, he smiles, he says,

“Never.”

-/-


End file.
